All Saints Day

Interior of Central Synagogue

Leaf from Weeping Willow Memorial

Weeping WIllow Memorial

Luke 6:20-31

Our gospel reading this morning ends on a familiar note.  We know the verse as the Golden Rule.  A form of it is found in many of the world’s religions--it’s not unique to the Judeo-Christian tradition.  “Do to others as you would have them do to you.”  It sounds nice doesn’t it?  That’s because we usually interpret it as saying, “be nice and others will be nice to you.” 

But being nice is a luxury of those who hold the power, isn’t it?  Point out the inequalities of a power situation or the fact that someone is being oppressed and somehow you’re no longer very nice.  And then the Golden Rule goes out the window.  If he, she or they aren’t going to be nice, well, I don’t have to be either, do I?  It says so right in the Bible.

Reading through the passage immediately before this Golden Rule that Jesus sets down, it does seem that Jesus wants us to be not only nice but sort of doormats.  But if you think about it, he’s putting forth radical ideas.  Love your enemies?  Wow, who’d’ve thought?  Enemies are there to be hated, aren’t they?  What is Jesus trying to do?  Make us into saints or something?

Well, yes and that’s why these scriptures are set for All Saints Day, which was actually last Monday, but is often celebrated in worship on the Sunday following.  So here we are commemorating All Saints Day and we have fairly clear instructions from this passage from Luke on how to be saints and what to avoid if we want to be known among the saints.  We usually have All Saints Day to remember and recall but it’s also a day of looking forward.  But before we look forward, we do spend time looking back and pulling up memories.

During our time in Budapest recently, one morning we visited the Dohany Street Central Synagogue which was built in the mid-19th century and is the 2nd largest synagogue in the world.  It’s the main though not the only synagogue for the large Jewish community of Budapest.  The interior, to make an understatement, is ornate…and gorgeous.  Two balconies for the women surround the main floor.  Gilt ornamentation is readily seen wherever you look.  One of our guidebooks said it was built to affirm the Jewish community’s place in the life of Budapest; an attempt, as it were, to keep up with the Christians.  They even included a few items, such as an organ and a pulpit, that aren’t usually found in most synagogues evidently. 

Behind the synagogue is a memorial garden, built to remember those who died in the holocaust.  It includes a symbolic, ceremonial grave for Raoul Wallenberg, the Christian Swedish ambassador who saved hundreds if not thousands of Jewish lives with his diplomatic abilities and handfuls of cash to bribe the proper officials.  Wallenberg died in a Soviet gulag in the 70s.

The main focal point of the Memorial Garden is a metal sculpture that is in the form of a weeping willow tree.  Just like a live weeping willow tree, its branches hang gracefully, sweeping down, until they almost touch the ground.  If you look closely, on the leaves are inscribed the names of those Budapestians who died in the holocaust, hundreds and thousands of leaves and names, all helping us to remember.

I never want to trivialize the experience of the Jews during the holocaust.  That was a terrible, unfathomable era of our human history with great suffering and tragedy.  But isn’t that what today’s often overlooked holiday is about; remembering?  Don’t we each inscribe a mental weeping willow leaf with the name of loved ones who have gone on, who have led us closer to God and taught us about turning the other cheek?  For those of us who are Christian, today is a day when we wander in our own memorial gardens and take note of those leaves, pausing at each one to recall how they brought the Golden Rule to life for us.  We remember because as humans we are almost programmed to do so.  We remember the ones who lived out the beatitudes and brought blessing and joy to us.

We look forward today in one way; look forward in hopes of becoming one of God’s saints in the eyes and memory of another.  But we also look back.  We look back and remember; we look back and recall the love that we felt that was and still is a reflection of God’s great, unconditional love.  Because that’s who the saints in our lives are: those who reflected God’s love through themselves, often selflessly, often tirelessly.

In a few moments, we’re going to recall the saints of our lives.  After strolling through our own memory gardens, I’ll ask us to name the names we find on the leaves there.  In the meantime, take this weeping willow leaf as a way to help you remember.  Let it be a tangible reminder of the person or people who are inscribed forever in your memorial garden.  And remember.

Stones

This sermon is for Gay/Lesbian/Bisexual/Transgendered Pride Sunday service which Chalice holds in combination with Forest Hill Christian Church in San Francisco each year during San Francisco's Pride activities.


Joshua 4:1-8

The Hebrew people were on the very brink of entering the land promised to them.  They just had to cross the Jordan River and they would be in their new homeland after 40 some years of wandering in the wilderness.  It was indeed a momentous occasion if there ever was one.

But how to remember such an occasion?  How to make sure the future generations would know how important this event was?  How would those who followed know that this spot on the Jordan was where the water stopped flowing so that the people could cross over and the ark of the covenant would remain dry on the shoulders of the priests carrying it?

Joshua told a member of each of the 12 tribes to select a stone from the river and carry it to the bank where it would be placed as a memorial.  Then when their children and grandchildren asked them “What do these stones mean?” they could relate the story of their entrance into the Promised Land. 


“What do these stones mean?”  We all hope that future generations will look back kindly on our lives and ask “What does this mean?”, “What does that mean?” “ Why did you do this?”  A part of being human is hoping that somehow our name and legacy lives on beyond us.  We all want future generations to look back from some future date and remember something we did or said that changed something for the better.  “What do these stones mean?”

What stones are we leaving behind in the struggle for equal rights for lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgendered people?  What markers are there that will cause those who come after us to stop and give thanks for our work, for our perseverance, for our very selves?

Perhaps some 30 or 40 or 100 years in the future, someone will come across a pink triangle and learn that homosexuals were incarcerated in the Nazi death camps and forced to wear that pink triangle as a symbol.  The pink triangle helps us remember that l/g/b/t people have sometimes suffered with their lives for being who they are.  They’ll know that the symbol was readopted to honor those who died in the concentration camps.  What do these stones mean?

Maybe someone will come across a rainbow flag and discover that gay pride movements swept across many cities and these flags were flown to show the world that l/g/b/t people are proud of who they are.  The flag was developed in 1978 by San Francisco artist Gilbert Baker to highlight the diversity that’s within the gay community.  It’s frequently flown now across the globe wherever l/g/b/t people can openly express who they are.  What do these stones mean?

Possibly someone from the future will find an “I do support the freedom to marry” sign and wonder in amazement at the fact that there was a time when same-sex couples were denied the right to marry the person of their choice.  They will find out about the struggle we are in the midst of right now for that one part of equality to be gained.  Maybe they’ll also learn of the struggle of people to serve in the military without regard to sexual orientation.  Or of ministers to be ordained and serve as God calls them regardless of their orientation.  What do these stones mean?


What stones will you leave behind?  Will future generations know of the work you did to make our world, their world a better place, a place where equality for all people is assured?  Will people know of your work and dedication to bringing in God’s realm to a needy world?  In the shadowed corners all around us, have you brought the light that shines forth from within you that is a reflection of God’s love?

Truly, we are leaving behind stones all the time, stones that will indicate how deeply we were involved in creating a more just and equal world.  We set up stones as markers when we write to our representatives about issues; when we volunteer our time; when we give of ourselves with our talents, or our resources; when we work for justice in our world and the the world that is yet to come.

“What do these stones mean” is indeed the question that will be asked by those from yet unborn generations.  When the stories of the struggle for justice for all people are told, will your name be included?  Will your work be found amidst the stones that are left behind?